Comments | rivelatalogs: It's tough being popular...

a_noble_thief in rivelatalogs

It's tough being popular...

Jun 09, 2008 23:36

WHO: Balthier and Larsa.
WHAT: Balthier brings Larsa a spot of tea, and a black kettle of advice.
WHERE: Larsa's current abode.
WHEN: Day 77, early afternoon.

( wouldn't want any admirers dropping in while we're away. )

place - housing district, Ω balthier, larsa ferrinas solidor

Comments 3

solidor_heir June 10 2008, 04:08:09 UTC

The kindly father whom Larsa had mentioned in the journals, answered the door. He had gentle eyes and a rough voice weighed down by the native Rivelatan accent.
"Ba'fier, righ' sir? 'Is way." He led the Sky Pirate to a guest room before gently closing the door behind him.

The boy was almost lost in the bedding, skin blanched by his illness and exhaustion. He stirred feebly, opening tired, bloodshot eyes before managing a heartfelt smile.
"Balthier. It gladdens me to see y-" He broke into a fit of coughing, face red from both strain and embarrassment at how weak he was. The independent Heir hated to seem so frail for it only reminded everyone, as well as himself, how very young he was.

a_noble_thief June 10 2008, 04:28:44 UTC

"Larsa Solidor, you look like death only partially warmed over." Balthier wasn't going to lie to the boy, he knew Larsa was well aware of his own state. Balthier had expected him to be worn down and ill, much as he had been- but seeing the youth look so delicate made his heart pang with worry.

He set the basket down on the small table beside the bed, unwrapping the contents. In a fluid motion, he poured tea into a cup that had been stowed inside, the colour a rich sandalwood. The armor of the tea was strong and tangy, like candied oranges with a hint of spice.

"Before you speak another word, drink." He lifted the cup to Larsa's lips, with a stern look that left little room for nonsense.

solidor_heir June 10 2008, 04:45:09 UTC

He had not seen his own appearance, but he guessed it was not exactly a wonderful sight to see. Afterall, the father had told him he was very pale with patches of raw skin from the scalding heat of the fires.

Gratefully his eyes voiced what his lips could not, as he sipped the tea. It was blissfully soothing to his needy throat, something simple water could not cure. Larsa detested feeling so helpless, but he knew he needed to become well in order to help people once more.

"Penelo is well?" He asked, once the cup was safely held in his little palms. "And everyone at the House?"